


Photograph

by kaizoku



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-16
Updated: 2007-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 04:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaizoku/pseuds/kaizoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds an old photograph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Photograph

**Author's Note:**

> Written for technosage's Porn-paragraph-a-thon; originally posted [there](http://technosage.livejournal.com/224268.html?thread=5128460#t5128460).

Harry had been going through Sirius' desk. A sheaf of papers slid off and as he bent to retrieve them he saw something grey. He had to lift up one leg of the desk to get it out; a complicated but familiar combination of thrill and dread went through him even before he consciously realized what he was looking at. It was a black and white moving photograph, well-blanketted in dust.

Even once he brushed it off, he couldn't tell right away what it was of. The angle was sort of odd, he thought. Then something shifted and he recognized a face - his father. With that information, suddenly he realized what he was watching, what the movement was: two naked bodies writhing together on a bed.

He put his hand over it quickly. But not fast enough - the image was imprinted in his mind. James had moved his head to the side and Harry had seen Sirius, a younger version of him but Harry knew him at once, underneath him. But it was the looks on their faces he couldn't forget. Obviously they were enjoying themselves, he thought sourly. But he knew it was more than that. They had a kind of... joy. And so focused on each other.

He didn't think he'd ever seen Sirius that happy when he was alive.

I should burn it, Harry thought. Blot it from my memory and never let anyone else discover it, ever.

But he didn't burn it. It went into his trunk, at the very bottom, between the pages of an old notebook. No one else would ever see it, but he couldn't get rid of a picture of his father and godfather, no matter what. He didn't have photos of them to spare.

And he couldn't forget it either. He didn't look at it again until he was back at school. He'd gotten a rather nasty cold. It was weirdly resistant to Pomfrey's usual cures, but not bad enough for her to let him stay in the infirmary so he was laid up in his own bed in the tower. Boredom induced him to look at it. And he couldn't remember it very well anymore, either. What exactly were they doing? Maybe it wasn't really what it had looked like, maybe he'd been confused.

He struggled out of bed and tossed things out of his trunk until he got to the notebook. He swallowed and opened it in the middle - exactly to the page with the photo. There they were... and there was no question in his mind what they were doing.

This time he watched longer and realized that it seemed like an especially long running photograph. The boys - his Dad and Sirius - were obviously quite close to finish. They were rubbing off against each other, James holding himself up on his elbows, a look of concentration on his face. As Harry watched, Sirius arched up against James, his mouth opening in a silent moan - he bucked once -

And Harry tore his gaze away. He was rock hard under his pajamas. He threw the photograph back into the trunk, piling socks and scarves and chocolate frogs back in haphazardly, and slammed it shut.

Then he went back to bed. And if he wanked under the covers until he was gasping and moaning as hard as Sirius in that photo... Well, no one but he had to know about it.

It was only much later that he thought to wonder who the photographer was.


End file.
